


Hands Down

by sepulchreofsongs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Idols, Idols, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5013694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepulchreofsongs/pseuds/sepulchreofsongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My hopes are so high, that your kiss might kill me.  So won't you kill me, so I die happy?"</p><p>Top tier pop star idol Oikawa Tooru tries to get his new bodyguard, Iwaizumi Hajime, to quit or sleep with him but Iwaizumi just wants to do his fucking job.  And sleep with him.</p><p>***on hiatus until I can sit down and formulate a plot for this clusterfuck***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope Dangles by a Thread

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to "Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional while thinking about your fave boys and cry.
> 
> Also welcome to my version of idol volleyball hell.

Oikawa tapped his foot impatiently against the white tiled floor. It was the only sound in the office besides the click of Yachi’s fingers on her computer’s keyboard and the faint office music. He crossed his arms and pouted exaggeratedly, slouching deeper into the plush brown leather couch. 

Years seemed to pass before him. He shifted and stared at a poster on the wall, framed in a modern sleek glass. It was a poster for one of his gigs, the first sold out arena, in fact. It featured a smiling Oikawa in a dramatic pose, reaching for the camera, his hip popped, and his eyes alluring. 

The poster used to be a beacon of pride for him. It still was, in a way, but all he could do these days was point out all its flaws. His eyes were too excited, his smile too broad. His fingers were awkwardly clumped, his skin too airbrushed. He was so young then. It’d only been two years but he was so shocked by how naïve he had been. He couldn’t take it. He rolled his eyes and groaned, loud, splaying himself on the couch dramatically.

“Ukaiiiiii,” he yelled out, causing poor Yachi to jump, fingers tensed. 

A dark, glass door opened and his manager leaned his blonde head out the door, glaring. “Give us one more second, you brat. It’s barely been ten minutes.”

The door immediately closed and Oikawa groaned louder. There was a moment of silence before Yachi’s typing hesitantly resumed. Oikawa took to counting ceiling tiles until the bell rang, a light chime signaling that someone was entering the offices. His head jerked over to the intruder so fast that it caused a pop in his neck.

“Hey,” Kuroo walked in casually, Takeda and Kenma trailing behind him. Takeda was buried in his pocket organizer, focusing on what the actor had next on his agenda, and Kenma was absorbed in a small video game, as usual. “You look displeased. Is everything not up to the Great King’s standards? Did they run out of your berry hibiscus juice again?”

Oikawa sat up and glared, pouting at Kuroo. The two had known each other since their starts in the entertainment industry; Kuroo in acting, Oikawa in singing. Their careers had started off slow, but had skyrocketed in popularity within the past two years, and now they were the two top male idols in the country. 

Kenma wasn’t anything to scoff at, however. Kuroo dragged his best friend into acting when they were children and despite his efforts not to be, he was also a coveted idol. He talked of quitting often, but never went through with it, and although Oikawa wasn’t one hundred percent sure, he thought Kuroo had something to do with that.

Oikawa stuck his tongue out at Kuroo in response to his teasing. “Very funny. Ukai’s been ignoring me since I got here. He says he’s settling things with a new bodyguard.”

“What, you don’t think you need one or something?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow as Takeda exited the lobby, probably making his way to his office, while Kenma continued playing his game next to Kuroo.

That made Oikawa grin, wide and crooked. “Are you kidding me? I need to meet him. I only caught a glimpse but it looks like Ukai knows how to pick them.”

“He picked Takeda,” Kenma pipes up from behind his red electronic device. 

Kuroo shrugged and cocked his head. “I guess he’s got a point there- Taneka’s the best manager we’ve ever had. But are you really planning on scaring off another bodyguard?”

“I don’t scare them off!” Oikawa fluttered his eyelashes in false innocence, pressing a hand to his chest in insult. “They just can’t handle my manly charms!”

“Or you’re sexually harassing them,” Kenma muttered.

“Once again, Kenma’s right. As usual.” Kuroo sighed, “You need a good bodyguard. You’re going through all the decent ones. Try to make this one stick, okay?”

“Ugh, FINE.” Oikawa threw up his hands dramatically. “I will TRY to contain myself. Happy?”

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow and nodded. “Yeah, actually that’s immensely satisfying.”

As Kuroo won their verbal sparring, Ukai opened his office door. “Well I guess that’s it for briefing you on your assignment. You’ll figure out most of it just by dealing with him.”

“Right, thank you Ukai-san.” A large hand reached to shake Ukai’s. Oikawa stared at it curiously, as that was the only glimpse he could see of the new man.

He didn’t have to wait long to see the rest of the pieces to the puzzle, however. A strong looking man pushed by Ukai, with serious eyes, spiky brown hair, and tan skin. Oikawa immediately wanted to run his fingers along it, see if it was as smooth as it looked. He was also bewildered by this urge, as he had never felt an instant need to touch someone before.

“Oikawa-san, I’m Hajime Iwaizumi and I’m your new body guard.” Before he knew it, the new man was in front of him, arm stretched and hand tensed. Oikawa fought the urge to shoot up from his seat. 

He calmly stood up, although his heart was going a million miles an hour. He held out his hand uninterestedly. “Nice to meet you Iwa-chan,” Oikawa smirked, seeing the man was shorter than him. “Let’s hope you’re better than the other lousy guards I’ve been stuck with.”

“Iwa-chan?” Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed and he sighed. “Whatever. Let’s get started, alright? I’m to escort you to your magazine shoot today.”

“O-kay~,” Oikawa stretched lazily and thrusted his hands into his pockets, heading for the door. “Bye, Kuroo-kun. Bye, Kenma-kun.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes and gave a little half wave before turning to Ukai. “Do you think he’ll be able to tame that kid?”

“I don’t think he’ll tame Oikawa, I think he’ll put up with his shit.” Ukai rubbed his temple absentmindedly. “And if he snaps, maybe Oikawa will learn to shut his mouth.”

“I think Oikawa will end up with a black eye,” Kenma commented.

“I’ll take that bet,” Kuroo nudged his friend. “Loser buys the other dinner.”

“We have to put a time frame on it,” Kenma’s eyes flashed up to Kuroo’s. “Two weeks.”

“Alright, in two weeks you’re buying me dinner.”

\-----  
They’d been on set for the photoshoot for around two hours, and Oikawa couldn’t stop staring at Iwaizumi.

It wasn’t an embarrassed stare, but rather a curious one. It made Iwaizumi nervous in a way, like the singer was trying to find a crack in his armor. He tried not to make eye contact with the intense, small brown pupils, but eventually he found himself shifting and glaring at Oikawa like he had on the way to the shoot.  
__  
In the car, Oikawa had spent a few minutes silent, before leaning forward from the back seat of the car.  
“So you’re going to be the one, huh?” He leered at Iwaizumi tauntingly. “What is it about you that Ukai thinks is going to be different?”  
“Nothing, probably,” Iwaizumi had shrugged. “Just that I don’t fuck around.”  
Oikawa’s eyes had flashed at that, and he’d moved his lips just next to Iwaizumi’s ear. “You don’t fuck?”  
Iwaizumi had glared at him from the rearview mirror, his mouth in a firm, aggressive line. “I’m here to do my job.” His eyes moved back to the road. “Besides, I’m not into pompous, arrogant douchebags.” 

Now at the set, Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi, frowning. The man had ignored his advances in the car, a first for Oikawa. He had at least hoped to get a blush out of him, but was unsuccessful. He’d been distracted the entire shoot, trying to figure out how to get inside Iwa-chan’s head. 

He resolutely got up and headed to the backdrop to pose for the last roll of photos for the shoot. He was in tight, gray jeans and a white button down with a few of the buttons undone and a loose turquoise tie around his neck. He posed with the tie like he was taking it off, and he looked directly at Iwaizumi, eyes coy and smile invitingly teasing. The photographer cooed at him, praising the pose, claiming it was the best he’d seen all day.

Oikawa spent the entire roll of film staring tauntingly at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi just glared, occasionally clicking his tongue in contempt. He couldn’t figure out what this guy’s deal was. All Iwaizumi wanted to do was his job and go home. He wasn’t trying to start shit, but he wasn’t about to put up with anything from this asshole. 

As he thought that, Oikawa posed with his mouth open erotically and his eyes lidded, aimed directly at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi’s glare deepened and he felt his skin heat up. He didn’t want to feel anything caused by such a ridiculous idiot, but he couldn’t help it. All he could hope was that it didn’t show on his cheeks.

This continued for the rest of the shoot, to Iwaizumi and his self-control’s dismay. He held strong though, eventually ignoring Oikawa entirely and look down at a book on his tablet instead. This made Oikawa angry, but he tried not to show it, only letting his eyes shrink in rage for a moment. 

When the shoot was finally finished, Oikawa considered spending the ride home in awkward silence, pouting, but he figured that would be super boring and no fun for anyone. When they got to the car, he ignored Iwaizumi opening the car’s back door and opened the front passenger’s door instead. It was the first time in years that he had sat next to his driver. Iwaizumi didn’t comment, he just moved to the driver’s seat and started the car.

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Oikawa put his hand on Iwaizumi’s thigh. Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed, first at his hand, then at Oikawa’s face. “What on earth are you doing?”

Oikawa ran his thumb smoothly back and forth against his pants. “What did you think of your first day on the job, Iwa-chan?” His eyes echoed his lips- one big smirk.

Iwaizumi looked back out at the road, his eyes narrowing further, hoping Oikawa couldn’t feel the heat from his leg through his pants. “It was disgusting. You- you are disgusting.”

Oikawa pulled his hand back, recoiling as if he’d been slapped. And the warmth from Iwa-chan’s thigh had been so nice too… He glared, cheeks embarrassed and pink for a moment. He then tossed his head back and laughed, easily placing a hand on his forehead. 

“You’re so mean, Iwa-chan!” he chirped, acting like Iwaizumi had been just joking with the singer. “Mean, Iwa-chan! Y’know, I won’t tell anyone if you want to be mean to me privately…”

Iwaizumi jerked his head in Oikawa’s direction. “Listen, I am not interested in playing a little flirtation game with you. I do not want to fuck you, I am not trying to fuck you. Get that in your empty idol head, alright? We’re in front of your apartment. Get out.”

Oikawa glared at him, outraged. Without a word he opened up the door, his back to Iwaizumi. When he turned back to him to close the door, he had his favorite grin slapped on his face. Iwaizumi could tell it didn’t look right, though.

“See you tomorrow, Iwa-chan!” He called out, waving, sing-song like.

Iwaizumi drove off without another word. Oikawa put down his hand after he disappeared, his grin dropping into a serious pout. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked into the upscale apartment building.

Iwaizumi drove home bitterly, grumbling to himself the entire way. This wasn’t the way he wanted his new job to start, but should have really been surprised with Oikawa fucking Tooru? He wondered the entire way home what had actually happened. Had the flirtations been serious? Mocking? A cover? Or all three all at once? He couldn’t it figure it out and he didn’t want to. This was supposed to be a job, not an off hours emotional puzzle.

And yet, all he could think about as he laid in bed was Oikawa’s beautiful half lidded eyes staring at him during the photoshoot.

\----

Oikawa looked around at his penthouse suite, eyeing his perfect cream leather couch, the granite counters, the large television, the long coat rack as though they were all personally responsible for murder. He kicked off his shoes angrily and marched to the couch, which he flung himself onto unceremoniously. 

He let out one angry yell before burying his face into the cold cushion. Why? Why the fuck had he done that? Any of that? He had promised Kuroo he’d try to control himself, but then he’d pulled that piece of shit move. 

Oikawa shook, upset, angry with himself. He didn’t know why he couldn’t behave normally around someone he thought was attractive. No, it wasn’t that. He could control himself around beautiful people, but it was people he thought would become more than pretty faces to him.

In his mind, in his warped, intuitive brain, he could see himself shoving his lips against Iwaizumi’s. Once, twice, before a show, before bed. He could see it and he didn’t want it, so he reacted. He pushed, like a spoiled child, refused his vegetables, begged for what wouldn’t do shit for him. 

But it fucking hurt.

So he picked up the phone and called Kuroo. “I didn’t listen.”


	2. The Shine of Which Has Caught My Eye

Kuroo got off the phone with Oikawa and flopped down onto the plush black velvet couch in his apartment. He sighed, slightly annoyed, and looked down to the floor. On the maroon carpet, mostly colored to hide stains, Kenma was sitting lazily, playing the game he’d been obsessed with for days. If you asked Kenma about it, he’d dismiss the game and say it wasn’t particularly interesting, but Kuroo knew from how focused his golden eyes got that he was thoroughly enjoying it. 

Kenma cleared his throat casually, and Kuroo realized he’d been staring. He shifted onto his back, blushing a little uncomfortably. This had been happening increasingly often, where Kuroo found himself just watching Kenma, enjoying every fraction of expression that played across his face. It always left him with an odd heavy flutter in his stomach that he couldn’t place, and this time was no different.

He took a deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes. A moment later he felt weight on the couch and opened one eye, his eyebrow cocking up with it. Kenma was sprawled in a way that fit into Kuroo’s long legs on the couch, feeling intimate but innocent at the same time. Kuroo scooched so he was leaning on a pillow and looked at Kenma curiously.

Kenma didn’t even look up from his game when he spoke. “Did Oikawa get hit already?”

Kuroo chuckled and stared up at the ceiling. “No, but he didn’t listen to me at all.”

“I thought it was a given that he wouldn’t.”

Kuroo feigned a hurt look at his friend. “I thought I might have some effect!”

“On Oikawa? Unlikely.”

“Well, anyway, I guess he was being a total prick as usual and Iwaizumi yelled at him.” He sighed, “I’m sure Oikawa would love for him to quit, but I think the guy is too stubborn for it.”

“So Oikawa was harassing him? Like with the other bodyguards?”

“Probably. I think Oikawa is actually attracted to this one though, or else he wouldn’t have gotten upset, but that doesn’t make what he did better at all.”

“It’s all catching up with him.”

Kuroo nodded. “It is. He better figure his shit out fast, though, or else he’s going to chase Iwaizumi off and regret it.”

Kenma nodded and made a noise of agreement. They sat there for a while, loosely intertwined, the beeping of the video game the only sound in the large apartment. Finally Kenma spoke again.

“Why are you staring at me?” 

Kuroo looked at him, surprised as Kenma looked up from his game to make quick eye contact. Heat rushed to his cheeks and all he could pray was that he didn’t look like a complete idiot, although he already knew that was a hopeless cause. 

He cleared his throat and avoided Kenma’s intense gaze. “I don’t know. You have pizza sauce on your face.”

Kenma frowned, nose scrunched. “No I don’t.”

Kuroo grinned and leaned over, flicking Kenma in the forehead. “Stop being so smart.

Kenma’s scrunch deepened and he looked back down at his game. “You’re being weird. Put on a movie.”

Kuroo swallowed a sigh of relief.

\-----

Oikawa had been sitting in his apartment for ten minutes, looking out the window from behind a curtain, watching Iwaizumi stand in the parking lot next to his car. Oikawa knew that he needed to go outside- he had a recording session today for a variety show with Kenma and Kuroo. If he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late. Shit, he probably was already late.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the suffocating silence between him and Iwa-chan. He knew it would choke him out, make his throat unbelievably tight. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, running his fingers through his hair nervously. He couldn’t move his feet.

Oikawa had never cared about someone else’s opinion so much in his entire life.

He didn’t know why he gave a flying fuck about Iwaizumi Hajime’s opinion of him. He’d known the guy for literally a day. Yet, he was pissed when Iwaizumi had denied him, but more so ashamed that he’d been a dick. 

Lost in his thoughts, Oikawa didn’t notice that Iwaizumi wasn’t by the car anymore. There was a sharp knock on the door, startling Oikawa, causing him to fall on his ass. He scrambled to his feet as he heard a gruff voice through the door, “Are you coming or what?”

Oikawa groaned inwardly, composing himself and walking to the door, nabbing his phone and wallet from the coffee table, noticing his phone alit with messages from Kuroo, Ukai, and Iwaizumi, all asking where he was. He pocketed the phone and opened the door, plastering his most convincing smile on his face.

“Sorry, sorry!” Oikawa moved through the door, shutting it behind him. “A star has to look good, you know?”

“They’re doing your make up on set,” Iwaizumi said bluntly, turning away and walking down the stairs of the building. “Besides, you look like shit.”

Oikawa caught up to him, hyperbolic offense arching his eyebrows. “Rude, Iwa-chan! I’m the visage of a Greek god and you know it!”

Iwaizumi pointedly rolled his eyes. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“After you yelled at me, how could I?” he pouted at Iwaizumi teasingly.

“Yeah, sorry about that…” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Oikawa’s surprised gaze.

Oikawa got in the car in the passenger side, same as the day before. “I’ll only forgive you if you buy me a latte!”

Iwaizumi sighed as he started the car. “Really? Are you not going to apologize for your behavior?”

“What behavior?”

Iwaizumi glared at Oikawa.

“Okay, okay. I was rude.”

“Thank you. We’ll drive through a Starbucks.”

“Yay!”

\------

Oikawa arrived on set happily sipping his favorite toasted graham latte, humming as he slurped at the whipped cream on top. Iwaizumi followed behind him, paying close attention to how everyone looked at them out of the corner of their eyes, slightly peeved that the big star was late.

Ukai walked right up to them and Iwaizumi bit back a cringe, dreading being yelled at on his second day. Ukai opened his mouth, but Oikawa spoke first.

“Don’t blame Iwa-chan, I made him wait.” Oikawa said lightly, his smile in play but his eyes serious and sharp.

Ukai pinched the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply through his nose and seemed to bite the inside of his cheek before saying anything. When he exhaled there was a movement in his shoulders, one of defeat.

“Just go get in the fucking make up chair.” He grumbled, thrusting a hand into his pocket and yanking out a pack of cigarettes, shoving one into his mouth before passing Iwaizumi to walk towards the door.

Oikawa hummed happily and practically skipped his way to the chair. Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. Was this the same Oikawa that had been rubbing at his thigh venomously the day before? Iwa-chan wondered for a moment whether this was one of those actor personality things. He shook his head and decided he didn’t want to know. 

Iwaizumi made his way over to the wall, where he figured he could just hang out and read until the show was over. Before he could settle down with his e-reader, though, someone approached his side and cleared their throat.

“What?” Iwaizumi looked up, the end of his word caught in his throat as he realized he was looking at Kuroo Tetsuro, an idol second to only Oikawa. He had seen him in the office yesterday but hadn’t had to interact. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, Kuroo-san, is there anything I can do for you?”

Kuroo laughed, his grin jagged and lopsided. He waved a hand dismissively. “No need to be so stiff, Iwaizumi. Just call me Kuroo. I just wanted to see how you were doing with your assignment to Oikawa. And you can speak honestly, if anyone knows what a prick the guy is, it’s me.”

Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow and looked into Kuroo’s sharp gold eyes, trying to find distrust. Behind him was who he recognized as Kenma, tapping at his phone.

Iwaizumi sighed and looked away. “It’s fine. No worse than any other assignment I’ve had. He likes to keep it interesting, at least.”

Kuroo snorted and guwaffed a little, the ugly laugh that seemed to be a trademark of his. “Interesting? That’s one way to put it, I suppose.”

Iwaizumi blushed a little under the intense scrutiny. He was saved, however- was it really saving?- by Oikawa coming over, done with makeup preparations. “I see you’ve met Kuroo, the grossest actor in all the land.”

“You wound me, Oikawa.” Kuroo pressed his hand to his chest mockingly. “I was just asking Iwaizumi here how he likes working for your jerk ass.”

Oikawa’s smile froze and seemed forced when he asked the two, “And?”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to stutter something out but Kuroo laughed and answered first. “No need to worry, Oikawa, he thinks you’re interesting.”

That was not how Iwaizumi would have put it at all. Despite this, he’s trying to push down a heat in his cheeks with sheer willpower, and he’s pretty sure it’s not working. He chances a small glance at Oikawa and notices some pink in his cheeks as well.

Oikawa grins a bit easier this time. “Of course I’m interesting! I’m the best singer in the country!”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Compared to who?”

Oikawa pouted exaggeratedly. “Mean, Iwa-chan!”

Kuroo laughed. “You two definitely have an interesting dynamic.”

“Kuroo! Kenma! Oikawa! Get your asses over here, we’re running late as is and you need to start filming.” Ukai barked at them, standing by the show’s director. 

Kuroo waved as Oikawa grinned, “Bye, Iwa-chan!”

Trailing closely behind them was Kenma, who turned around and blinked at Iwaizumi. “I still think you’re going to hit him.”

\-----

Iwaizumi tried reading for a while during filming but he kept getting distracted by the contagious, charismatic laughing that could only belong to Oikawa Tooru. Iwaizumi had seen yesterday that he was good at this whole idol thing, yeah, but now seeing him talk and joke around it became obvious why he was good at it. 

Oikawa and Kuroo had great chemistry together, playing off of each other in a natural way. Kenma was their foil, making remarks about how dramatic they were and bringing their pompous facades back to earth. It was a set up designed to kill, and even Iwaizumi, who had never cared about these things before in his life, was drawn in.

When filming was over, Oikawa approached Iwaizumi, stretching his long arms over his head. “Ugh, I’m exhausted!”

“Yeah, smiling and laughing for a few hours, that’s some hard work.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, putting his e-reader into a bag. 

“Excuse me, being an idol is harder than you’d think.” When Iwaizumi met Oikawa’s eyes, they were hard and serious. “I bet you couldn’t do it, Iwa-chan.”

“You’re right,” Iwaizumi nodded, “I couldn’t. Is there anything else you need to do here?”

“Nope!” Oikawa’s eyes were back to their large carefree state. “Take me home, Iwa-chan.~”

“Don’t get weird again,” Iwaizumi warned in a low voice as he stood up and they walked to the car.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “You’re good at it, you know. The whole idol thing.”

Oikawa grinned, wide and unabashed, leaning in a bit towards Iwaizumi. “Ah, Iwa-chan recognizes my talents! Does this mean Iwa-chan wants to see my other talents?”

Iwa-chan glared at Oikawa. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Ahh, come on Iwa-chan, I promise not to be gross.”

“I told you yesterday, I just want to do my job.”

“I am your job, do me.”

“Oikawa I swear to god, I will punch you.”

“Aww I’m just kidding Iwa-chan, you’re just so cute when you have that intense, serious look on your face.”

Iwaizumi grumbled and ground his teeth together. He pulled in front of Oikawa’s apartment fast, with a screech. He turned to Oikawa and grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward. He smashed Oikawa’s lips against his and kissed him hard. Oikawa let out a gasp of surprise and kissed back for the moment it lasted. Just as quickly as it had started, it ended, Iwaizumi pulling away and not looking at Oikawa, refusing to meet his gaze. His cheeks were warm.

“Get out of my car.” He growled in a low voice and without a single thought, Oikawa obeyed, getting out quickly and rushing up to his apartment.

He looked back once and saw Iwa-chan still in front of the building, his head resting on the steering wheel.


	3. Oversized and Overwhelmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo and Kenma try to figure out what happened.

The next few days or so were weird, predictably so. However, Kuroo had no idea what had happened, so when Oikawa and Iwaizumi came into the office the next day, awkward and pale, he’d just assumed they’d shacked up and that the stiffness was temporary. If anything though, things just got more awkward. The two wouldn’t look at each other. Oikawa wasn’t even trying to sass Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi barely talked, just nodding and taking his orders from Ukai.

Kuroo tried approaching Oikawa about it, but he brushed it off as normal. “Huh? Nothing’s wrong with Iwa-chan and me!” He pasted a plastic smile to his face, “We’re just doing our jobs.”  
Oikawa wasn’t nearly as good an actor as Kuroo, so the latter rolled his golden eyes, knowing he wasn’t going to get any information from him. He tried Iwaizumi next, slithering up next to him at the offices casually. 

“What’s up with you and Oikawa?” He raised an eyebrow, not beating around the bush. “You guys are being weird, even for coworkers.”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “Weird is second nature to him.”

“Okay,” Kuroo sighed. “So did something happen? Like after the show taping?”

Iwaizumi grimaced then, stiffening, with his body attempting an admirable feat to try and make his brown skin a pale green. Kuroo supposed he’d hit the mark on the head, but Iwaizumi wouldn’t admit it, sputtering out a quick “No, nothing happened.”

Frustrated and defeated that evening, Kuroo slammed the door to their apartment behind him and Kenma. He immediately made his way to the couch and spilled himself onto it, before Kenma could claim it for himself. Kenma grimaced. “What’s up with you?”

“What’s up with me?!” Kuroo cried, “What’s up with them? I can’t get either to talk to me, although Iwaizumi definitely doesn’t have as many walls up as Oikawa so it’s easier to read the bullshit he tries to give me.”

Kenma hummed in understanding and hopped up onto the couch, sitting on Kuroo’s back as he laid on his stomach. Kenma started to pick at the tangles in his best friend’s dark messy hair.

Kenma continued talking, something that surprised Kuroo a little. “If they keep it up, it’s going to make our bet less interesting.”

Kuroo turned his head, a wide grin playing on his face. “You think our bet is interesting?”

“Tooru getting hit in the face is interesting,” Kenma amended.

Kuroo laughed, turning onto his back and pulling Kenma so he’s lying, head against Kuroo’s chest. “It’s been a long time since we laid like this.”

Kenma picked at some fuzz on Kuroo’s shirt. “Since we were kids.”

Kuroo scoffed. “Come on we were probably in high school.”

“Kids.”

“Kenma, you’re only nineteen!”

“I missed it.”

The last sentence is so quiet and quick that Kuroo almost asked him to repeat it, but then he realizes what Kenma said, so sincere and fleeting. Kenma burrowed into Kuroo, nuzzling his face against his chest. Kuroo placed one arm around him silently, worried that talking would break the spell that seemed to be over them. He reached with his other long arm to use the television remote and put on a movie.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi could wait.

\---

The next morning, Oikawa paced around his living room. It was his first day off since Iwaizumi had become his bodyguard and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t have work to distract him from the chapped, rough, but firm lips that had kissed him five days earlier. Five days, eight hours, and twenty two minutes ago. 

Not like he knew the exact minute that Iwa-chan had kissed him or anything.

Sure, it was horrible seeing Iwa-chan at work every day, knowing that all he wanted to do was be kissed again, but Iwaizumi seemed content to forget about it. Oikawa had just focused on his work, pouring himself into it, determined to be the best idol he could be. That had always worked for him.

Not this time, however.

To make matters worse, Kuroo was questioning him now. Kuroo knew something was up, and Kuroo was about as observant as a cactus-with hair just as spiked- meaning everyone else could probably tell too. He couldn’t look at Kenma without knowing the blonde boy was scrutinizing him, trying to figure out what had happened that Tuesday. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kenma had already figured it out.

He sprawled into a chair, his legs over one of the plush arms, back against the other set and turned on his television. Maybe he could get away with just analyzing interviews all day. 

The first talk show has an up and coming idol on it, Sugawara Koushi. Oikawa has heard of him, of course, Sugawara- or Suga as his fans and the media call him- is from the same agency as him, Kuroo, and Kenma in fact. They didn’t run into each other much because their rooms were on different floors, Oikawa being a top idol and all, and they were often just out on jobs. Oikawa knew from his research, the research he did on all the idols that were competition, that Suga was known for his angelic, if a little quirky, singing voice. 

He was laughing on the screen at something the interviewer said, bright white teeth showing and his eyes crinkling. Oikawa knew his fans swooned over the mole that dotted below his lip, which he thought was ridiculous. Congratulations, there’s a dark spot on your face, he thought to himself with a grumble. 

He sighed, knowing he was being bitter. Kuroo would be laughing at him right now, Kenma would roll his eyes. Iwa-chan would- what would Iwa-chan do? Would he tell Oikawa to cut it out, give him a gruff little slap on the arm? Would he groan and tell Oikawa to shut up? 

Oikawa himself groaned, angry that his thoughts had turned to Iwa-chan so quickly. Before they could continue, he narrowed his eyes at the TV, willing himself to focus in on the interview. The moment he did, Suga made a quite daring joke at the interviewer’s expense, laughing and touching her arm lightly. The interviewer seemed a little shocked but laughed, not upset by the joke.

“Well look who’s Mr. Refreshing,” Oikawa muttered, resting his chin in his hand. He then was drawn in, not thinking about Iwaizumi for the rest of the interview.

\---

Iwaizumi himself was pacing his own, considerably less expensive apartment. Oikawa was his only job, it paid well enough that he didn’t have to do two now. Therefore, when Oikawa had days off, so did Iwaizumi. 

He was having just a hard a time as Oikawa with forgetting that Tuesday. A blush rose to his face, cheeks heating, every time he thought about Oikawa’s soft pink lips and the moment they were kissing him back. It was all he could do not to pull him in closer, poke his tongue in, and explore the mouth that was just as beautiful as the rest of him. 

Iwaizumi sighed and flopped into a stool at his table, a mirror of Oikawa. He picked at the toast he’d made in his morning trance, before he had realized he didn’t have to work. He’d been up since then, unable to go back to sleep, thoughts racing. Was Oikawa still asleep? What did he look like? Was he as angelic as everyone imagined when he slept? Or the more likely version that Iwaizumi had glimpsed when Oikawa was tired enough to fall asleep on the way home- drooling, mouth open, legs sprawled? Iwaizumi so desperately wanted to see.

But he didn’t. He didn’t want to sleep where he ate, no way, no how. That was a rule he’d always made himself keep, even when that bartender had been really cute and flirted with him at the club he’d bounced at for a while. Oikawa fucking Tooru wasn’t going to make him change that now.

Oikawa Tooru was just as pompous as he had thought he’d be. He was obnoxious, especially with his efforts to seduce him, which he would never admit were working. Had worked. Iwaizumi had kissed him, after all. As annoying as Oikawa was, he was beautiful, and Iwaizumi could tell the irritating persona was a just that- a persona. Iwaizumi wanted to see more of the vulnerable and selfless Oikawa he had gotten glimpses of. Even after Tuesday, even with the two of them being distant and awkward, Iwaizumi had seen Oikawa vulnerable, nervous and quiet in his backseat, fidgety and spaced out before an interview. It was there.

Iwaizumi gulped down lumps of dry toast that fell into a solid block in his stomach. He had to force himself to eat all week. Nothing sounded good, he didn’t feel like making anything, didn’t feel like ordering in. He just felt like there was this fluttering mass settled into the bottom of him stomach, unwilling to move, weighing him down.

He supposed, of course, that this lump was Oikawa.

He wondered if it’d ever dissipate.

\---

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“What the fuck do you want?” Oikawa sleepily slurred into his ringing phone, having dozed off after watching Suga’s interview, and woken up by his phone singing.

“Is that any way to treat your best friend?” Kuroo’s voice made him wake up just a slight bit more.

“You’re pretty much my only friend, Kuroo.” Oikawa groaned. “Plus, it’s our day off. Shouldn’t you and Kenma be holding hands or something?”

He could practically hear Kuroo frown. “You’re being honest and it’s weirding me out. Come over, I’m making quesadillas for lunch.”

Oikawa looked at the clock. Noon, he’d only slept for an hour or so. He considered it, seeing as he needed to kill the rest of the day. “I guess I could come over… that involves me getting dressed, though.”

“Come in your pajamas, we’re still in ours. We’re just going to watch movies all day.”

“I sleep in the nude.”

“All the better!”

“You still haven’t responded to my ‘holding hands’ comment. Are you ready to admit your feelings for Kenma-kun?”

“I was opting to ignore it, and no, I’m not.”

“So there are feelings?”

“Not this again.”

“You’re going to have to face it eventually!”

“Do you want to come over for food or not?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll get dressed and grab a cab.”

Kuroo sighed as he hung up the phone, tossing it to the side before pulling out a pan for quesadillas. 

“Was Tooru being difficult?” Kenma asked, seated at the table with his PS Vita. 

“When isn’t he?” Kuroo rolled his eyes, starting to cook. “This better work, or else our bet is off.”

“You can’t just cancel a bet because you think you’re going to lose, Kuroo.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’d benefit me for them to keep not talking. My money was on Iwaizumi not punching Oikawa.” Kuroo pointed a flipper at Kenma as the blonde scrunched his nose up.

“But that’d be boring.”

“It would be, which is why I’m helping you and them out.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

“You can thank me with dinner when they confess their love to each other and Iwaizumi doesn’t punch Oikawa.” Kuroo winked and Kenma’s scrunch deepened.

“Boring.”

“Kenma, we’ve known Oikawa for years. The guy is probably the only person we could both consider a friend outside of work. Don’t you think he deserves to be in a decent, happy relationship?”

Kenma scrunched his nose further, making Kuroo give out a snort of laughter.

“Come on, you don’t think a love confession would be just a little bit interesting?” Kuroo moved over to Kenma, sitting down as their food sizzled on the stove top, resting his chin in his hands and smiling.

Kenma looked at him with alarmingly sharp eyes. “Depends on who’s confessing.”

Kuroo swallowed, hard. He had to try with all his might not to tear his eyes from Kenma’s. He had this fluttering feeling in his stomach, and his hands were tingling. After a moment he regained his composition and he smirked, cocking his head and standing up.

“You don’t think they’ll confess at the same time?” Kuroo turned around before Kenma could respond, not wanting to see his face. He could already feel Kenma’s eyes on his back. “Do you want chicken in your quesadilla?”

He heard an almost inaudible sigh. “Yeah.”

A glance over his shoulder revealed Kenma looking back at his game, not paying attention to Kuroo anymore. Kuroo pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and turned back to the stove, focusing on the food. What did Kenma mean by “who’s confessing?” Something in Kuroo tingled, poked at him, made him think that maybe, just maybe, Kenma meant him. Meant that he wanted Kuroo to confess. To who? To him? Kuroo got a funny feeling in his chest when Kenma smiled, sure, but was that love? Was that worthy of a confession? Kenma surely didn’t like him the same way. Kenma was so far out of his leag-

“Kuroo.” Kenma’s voice, stronger than usual, right next to him, pulled him from his thoughts. Kuroo jumped, almost hitting Kenma with the flipper. 

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Tooru just rang the doorbell. You didn’t respond so I let him up. He’ll be here in a moment. Also that quesadilla is getting burned.”

Kuroo looked down at the browning tortilla and cussed loudly. “Sorry.”

“You’ve been weird. Are you okay-“

“Yoo hoo!” There was a yell and a knock at the door, making both of them jump this time.

“Tooru.” They both muttered it, and Kenma went to the door as Kuroo flipped over the quesadilla, fruitlessly trying to save it.

“Kenma-kun!” Oikawa immediately ruffled Kenma’s blonde hair, loose from its usual bun. 

“Hi, Tooru.” Kenma said quietly, opening the door wider for Oikawa to bounce into the apartment.

Oikawa’s nose wrinkled as he walked deeper into the connected kitchen and living room. “Did something burn? Kuroo, you didn’t say you were cooking!”

“Hey asshole, I’m doing my best in here!” Kuroo leans into his visibility. 

“Give me extra cheese on mine!” Oikawa gives him an oversweet grin. “And don’t burn it!”

Oikawa and Kenma end up seated on the barstools against the half wall between the kitchen and living room, watching Kuroo work and commenting on his cooking.

“How’s Iwaizumi?” Kuroo said after a moment, looking at Oikawa out of the corner of his eye.

Oikawa visibly paled. “Iwa-chan? How should I know?”

“Hm, I just thought you might. It seemed like you guys were getting along at the beginning of the week.”

“Although you both have been weird since Tuesday,” Kenma muttered pointedly.

“Listen, Iwa-chan and I are just colleagues.” Oikawa frowned. “I don’t know why you two think there’s something more there.”

“I didn’t say that, exactly,” Kuroo smirked a little, making Oikawa flush pink.

“Why are you two bugging me about this?”

“Because you’ve harassed every body guard that’s been assigned to you. You always force them to quit, or seduce them and fire them when they give in.” Kuroo sighs. “It’s obvious, to us at least, that you’re actually interested in Iwaizumi, and you’re going to fuck it up with that pattern of yours.”

“Too late.” Oikawa slumped forward, resting his head in his arms on the bar top. 

“Is that what happened Tuesday?” Kenma asked, taking a cup of water from Kuroo and swirling a straw in it, almost disinterestedly.

“You’re eerily perceptive, Kenma.” Oikawa glared at the small man. “Yeah, after the show, Iwa-chan drove me home, and I-”

Oikawa paused for a moment, and Kuroo and Kenma turned to look at him, curious. The talkative brunette was almost never at a loss for words. 

Oikawa sighed, eyelashes fluttering as he continued, “I pushed too hard, but I didn’t really mean to? It wasn’t a game, I actually wanted to kiss him, I think…”

Oikawa trailed off again, looking off into some unknown distance. Kuroo rolled his eyes at Kenma and clicked his fingers in front of Tooru’s face, jolting him from his weird reverie. “Can you finish the fucking story?”

Oikawa cleared his throat, a light blush littering his cheeks. “Right, sorry. So then Iwa-chan did kiss me and it was so wonderful and everything I could’ve hoped for. His lips were warm and rough, just like you’d imagine they’d be, and he grabbed my shirt like a brute…” He sighed again, looking like a lovesick teenager. “And then he pulled away and told me to get out of the car. He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“So this is all because you guys didn’t talk after you kissed?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, finally sliding plates in front of his two best friends.

“He didn’t want to talk, obviously!” Oikawa pointed a fork at Kuroo. “Clearly I was the worst kisser ever and he doesn’t want to try it again, let alone mention it again.”

Kuroo groaned loudly and threw up his hands. Kenma took over, “Tooru, for someone so eerily observant, you’re being stupidly dense.”

Oikawa looked up from his quesadilla with wide eyes and a mouth full of tortilla. “Whaddya mean?”

“You dumbass,” Kuroo growled. “Iwaizumi’s embarrassed.”

“Right, because I was the wor-“

“No, because he acted out of impulse, pure instinct, probably.” Kenma shook his head. “You should talk to him.”

“How can you guys be so sure of all of this?”

“Because we’ve had to watch you two look at each other when the other’s not looking for an entire week.” Kuroo stabbed his meal savagely. “You guys look at each other like lost puppies.”

“It’s gross.” Kenma muttered.

Oikawa’s blush deepened, a shy smile so unlike him hinting at his lips. “You think? Weird. I haven’t even known Iwa-chan long, but he’s so handsome… I feel like I could spend hours just kissing his big meaty arms…”

“Ugh that’s gross too, dude.” Kuroo grimaced. “We’re trying to eat.”

“Right, right.” Oikawa grinned, and for the first time in a week, it seemed genuine. “Hey, Kenma, have you seen that new UFO mini series?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took forever! It's a lot longer than the other chapters to try and make up for it. Between finals and everything, I just couldn't find the time to write. I'm also working on layouts for the apartments, specifically Kuroo/Kenma's and Oikawa's since they've been referenced so much, and the idol agency building.


End file.
